This old violin has lost

some of her strings

and like many an ACOA*

she’s filled to the brim

with lizards, and things

but mainly her stuffing is jello.

When I awoke in the night

and turned on the light

I prayed (to the Universe)

that today would be free

in its entirety

of fight.

 

*Adult Children of Alcoholics

While continuing to try to continue organizing “my stuff”  I came across a passel of earlier poems.  I don’t know which have made their appearance in this blog and/or d’Verse, but I just felt like giving them a run-through again.  One a Day takes the —what was it?—away. Since I love my Media Library, I think I’ll add a random pix, also. (This must be what happens when you start getting old.)